


The Light Fantastic

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, light slash, post retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Takes place post-retirement.  In which Napoleon takes “Dance like no one is watching” to heart–-not realizing that Illyaiswatching.





	The Light Fantastic

Life in retirement from U.N.C.L.E. meant a lot of time on Illya’s hands. A lot of it was spent traveling on adventures with Napoleon and their cat, Baba Yaga, for globetrotting was an indulgence they could never get enough of. But a lot of the time was also spent at their Hawaiian bungalow, watching time go by.

It was always a stark contrast to the fast-pace life they used to know; there were times that it felt very foreign, even as time went on. Illya still yearned for the rush of adrenaline and the flirting with danger—he could tell that Napoleon did, too, in spite of how at home he seemed here in the tropics.

Illya had been watching TV with Baba Yaga one morning when the he decided that it was time for snack; Baba Yaga let off an offended meow as he stopped petting her and got up, and grumpily followed him to the kitchen, bumping into his leg as Illya suddenly stopped short in the doorway.

Illya had stopped upon seeing a most unusual sight in the kitchen. Napoleon was preparing a stew that smelled like it would be another culinary masterpiece for lunch—but Napoleon himself, wearing an apron decked with tropical flowers and lush green leaves, was dancing to the music on the radio as he worked on the stew.

It was “September,” by Earth, Wind & Fire—and Napoleon was very clearly into the music, stirring the stew in time to the music. He did a pirouette, which allowed him to grab a pinch of spices from the cabinet and then gracefully toss it into the stew.

Illya watched in utter fascination as Napoleon now sampled the stew, and then used the spoon as an impromptu microphone as he continued to dance, seemingly without a care in the world.

It took Napoleon another pirouette to notice that he was being watched; he stopped in mid-twirl, blushing all red and looking rather embarrassed as he noticed Illya watching in fascination and Baba Yaga watching in utter confusion.

“Er…” Napoleon said, indicating the radio. “I was just… I mean, ah… Lunch will be ready in about five minutes.”

“The song will be over by then,” Illya noted. He walked into the kitchen, smiling. “Shall we dance until then?”

Napoleon blinked in surprise; dancing wasn’t something that Illya did often—and certainly not to this kind of music. Waltzes and the foxtrot, yes—on rare occasions, the tango… But… disco?

And yet, he extended his hand to Napoleon, who smiled and took it; the two of them danced together there in their little kitchen. Baba Yaga stared incredulously at the both of them for a moment before deciding to dismiss the whole thing and give her attention to her scratching post instead.

But Napoleon and Illya continued to dance together, enjoying one of many cherished moments together—moments that they had fought for so long and so hard over many years of dedicated service. Yes, it was different from the adrenaline-filled life they had known before, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable—especially when they still had each other, after all this time, still full of happiness and joy—and full of the same love they had felt for each other even then. That was one thing that had never changed—and something that they knew never would, no matter how much time had passed.

And as they looked into each other’s eyes, stealing kisses as they danced across the kitchen floor, they had to agree, it had been worth it all just for this—the promise of a happy future together.


End file.
